LITMIR.BIZ

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an’ marm’s allus wearin’ out a beech twig on me.”

      “Guess you do somethin’ for it,” said Enoch, wisely.

      “She’d do it jest th’ same if I didn’t,” declared Lot, yet with perfect good-nature, as though the Widow Breckenridge’s vigorous applications of the beech wand was a part of existence not to be escaped. “Gran’pap says I might’s well be hung for an ole sheep as a lamb, so in course I do somethin’ for it–mostly.”

      “If the Yorkers fight we’ll hafter stay right here and shoot like the men,” said Nuck, reflectively. “It’ll be like the Injin fights my father and ’Siah were in. I s’pose we’ll take trees, an’ scatter out so’t the Yorkers can’t git up around us here – ”

      “An’ we’ll raise the warwhoop an’ shoot jest as fast as we kin!” exclaimed Lot, excitedly. “Crow Wing taught me the warwhoop last year. An’ I know how to scalp, too.”

      “Oh, I wouldn’t do that!” exclaimed Enoch, in horror.

      “Umph! Yorkers ain’t no better’n Injins, an’ I’d scalp an Injin,” declared Lot, blood-thirstily.

      “I wouldn’t. My father never did that, an’ he was in the war. He said that was why the Injins warn’t no better’n brute-beasts, an’ didn’t have no souls–’cause they scalped their enemies.”

      “Be still there, you youngsters!” growled ’Siah, coming down the line. “If you want to be men, l’arn to keep yer tongues quiet. Voices carry far on a day like this. What’d they say down ter the house, Nuck, ’bout the signal?”

      “When they want help, or want us to sail into ’em, they’re goin’ to raise a red flag through the chimbley,” replied the boy.

      “Wal, I’m hopin’ they won’t fight,” said the ranger, squinting along the road below the ridge.

      “Oh, I wanter see a fight–zuckers, I do!” exclaimed Lot.

      “Be still, you bloodthirsty young savage!” commanded ’Siah. “You wanter shoot down men of your own color, do ye? Beech-sealin’ an’ duckin’ is all right; but it’s an awful thing to draw bead on another white man, as ye’ll l’arn some day.”

      “But you fought the Frenchmen with the Injins,” declared Lot.

      “Huh! Them’s only half-bred. Frenchmen ain’t no more’n savages,” said ’Siah, gloomily.

      An hour passed–a long, long time to the excited boys. Then, far down the winding road quite a piece of which they could observe from the summit of the wooded ridge, was seen the sudden glint of sunlight on metal. “They’re coming!” the message went round and the settlers in ambush crouched more closely behind their screens and even the hearts of old Indian fighters beat faster at the nearing prospect of an engagement. James Breckenridge, Ethan Allen, and several others advanced slowly from the direction of the house to the bridge across which the Yorkers must pass. Sheriff Ten Eyck spurred forward with his personal staff to meet them. With him came the infamous John Munro who, as a justice of the peace under commission from New York, was such a thorn in the flesh of the settlers. The sheriff was a very pompous Dutchman who believed without question in the validity of New York’s jurisdiction over the Grants, and who, despite his bombastic manner, was personally no coward.

      “Master Breckenridge,” he said to the man whom he had come to evict from his home, “we have heard that you and your neighbors are armed to oppose the authority vested in me by His Most Gracious Majesty’s colony of New York. If there be blood shed this day, it will be upon your head, for I here command you to leave this neighborhood and give over the possession of this land to its rightful owners.”

      “I cannot do that, Master Sheriff,” said Breckenridge, quietly. “As for blood being upon my head for this day’s work, you can see that I am unarmed,” and he spread his hands widely. “Besides, I have nothing to do with this grant at the present time. The township of Bennington has taken the farm upon its own hands, and it will oppose your entrance with armed resistance. I have nothing to do with it.”

      “What is the township of Bennington?” demanded Ten Eyck. “This land belongs to the colony of New York under the crown. There is no town of Bennington. What legal rights have a parcel of squatters to this territory?”

      Then Allen spoke. “The gods of the valleys are not the gods of the hills, Sir Sheriff. You on the other side of the Twenty-Mile Line may acknowledge the Governor of New York as your master; we on this side are a free people. We have bought our lands from the government to which they were granted by the King, and you shall not drive us from them!”

      The colloquy ended and the settlers went back toward the house. After the main body of his army came up, and their numbers seemed quite as formidable as Crow Wing had reported, the sheriff pressed forward across the bridge and approached the Breckenridge dwelling. Every settler had disappeared by now and even those inside the house were still. Neither the sheriff nor his men suspected that quite three hundred guns were turned upon them and that, at the first fire, the carnage would be terrible.

      “Open in the name of the law!” exclaimed Ten Eyck, thundering at the stout oak door of the house. “I demand admittance and that all within come peaceably forth. Open, or I shall break down the door!”

      There was silence for a moment, and then a voice said clearly from within: “Attempt it and you are a dead man!”

      The reply angered the doughty sheriff. He was being flouted and the majesty of the law scorned. That was more than he could quietly bear. “Come out and deliver up your arms in the name o’ the King!” he cried. “Ye rebels! I’ll take the last of ye to Albany jail if ye do not surrender!”

      At this a chorus of derisive groans issued from behind the barred door and shutters, and these sounds were echoed by other groans from the men in ambush, until the very forest itself seemed deriding the Yorkers. The knowledge that he and his men had fallen into a trap did not balk the sheriff; his rage rose to white heat and calling for an axe he advanced to the attack. The moment was freighted with peril. If the Yorkers attacked the house a withering fire would spring from the guns in the bushes and on the ridge and blood would flow in plenty in that heretofore peaceful vale of the northern forest.

      CHAPTER IV

      ’SIAH BOLDERWOOD’S STRATAGEM

      Sheriff Ten Eyck was a man of determination and although he had before tested the mettle of the Grants men, he felt a burden of confidence now with this army behind him. The ridicule of the party in ambush stung his pride, and although warned that a considerable number of settlers were hidden in the wood, he was not disposed to temporize. But the men who had accompanied him on his nefarious mission were far differently impressed by the situation. They had followed the doughty sheriff in the hope of plunder, it is true; if the settlers of the Hampshire Grants were to be driven incontinently from their homes as Ten Eyck and the Governor declared, somebody must benefit by the circumstance, and the sheriff’s men hoped to be of the benefited party. But this armed opposition was disheartening. When the chorus of groans rose from the surrounding forest, his men as well as himself, knew that they had fallen into ambush, and this thought troubled the Yorkers greatly.

      From the top of the ridge ’Siah Bolderwood had heard much of the controversy at the door of the Breckenridge house and as the really serious moment approached the old ranger was blessed with a sudden inspiration. He sprang forward and seizing Enoch Harding by the collar dragged him to his knees and whispered a command in his ear. “Quick, you young snipe you!” he exclaimed, as Enoch prepared to obey. “Run like the wind–and don’t let ’em see you or you may get potted!”

      Enoch was off in an instant, trailing his gun behind him and stooping low that the passage of his body through the brush might not be noted. He got the house between him and the sheriff’s column and soon reached the side of the road where the other settlers in ambush were stationed. He found their leader and whispered Bolderwood’s message to him. Instantly the man caught the idea and the word was passed down the straggling line. Enoch did not return but waited with these men, who were nearer the

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